by Amber Stuart
Cord was too distracted by his bloodied nose to hear the motivated soldier gaining on them. The bullet that lodged itself into his shoulder, however, had him paying plenty of attention. He roared with pain and jerked Keela to a stop. They turned to face the oncoming soldier as he continued at a gallop.
Cord shoved the girl's face into his mount to keep her out of his way and maybe so she wouldn't get hit. Mostly it was the former. Lifting his good arm he pulled the hammer back and sent his last bullet through that son of a bitch's forehead. He hastily returned his gun to its holster and steered them toward his cabin. His nose and his shoulder would have to wait.
"Crazy chit," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Gonna get me killed."
Night had fallen long before they reached his cabin. He was surprised at how rundown it looked. Two years ago he had walked away and hadn't been back since. His happy home life had been destroyed that day when his wife and son were killed by some Camo. He hadn’t been there to save them, having gone out to track and trap wildlife for trade. Instead, it had been Gerrit that had found their bodies and buried them in the garden behind the cabin.
Keela's snout snuffled the air as they stared at the homestead. The girl in front of him woke. She'd fallen asleep hours ago. Keela's rolling gait had that effect. Now she peered at the wooden construct before them and waited for him to take the lead.
Cord ran a hand over his eyes and beard and sighed. He couldn't go inside and he dared not go into the garden. They would have to camp out front. He clumsily slipped from Keela's back and winced when his feet hit dirt. That bullet needed to come out. He staggered away, leaving the girl to see to getting herself down, and dropped to the snow-covered ground.
Hope gave Keela a loving rub before gracefully hopping down. She followed the alien, knowing he was in pain, yet hesitant to help. She wanted to see what he would do before she offered her gift.
He gingerly peeled his shirt away and tried to look at the back of his shoulder. He couldn't reach it. The girl would have to dig the damned thing out.
"Hey, girl," he called to her. She stood there just staring at him as if he was the freak.
Cord muttered under his breath about the dead and his own stupidity. He pulled out his flask and knife and unsheathed the latter. Normally he'd have sterilized the blade in a fire, but he didn’t have that luxury. Cord sighed and stared morosely at his flask. He took a few quick sips to take the edge off before he carefully poured the rest of his precious liquid over the knife and his shoulder.
"Hope," he said, trying again to get her attention. This time he got a reaction and cautiously she approached.
Having watched him, she knew he intended to dig the object from his flesh. It did need to come out. She reached for the knife he held out. He glared at her, not releasing it until the last moment, as if reluctant to trust her.
"Don't kill me," he told her before presenting his back. Not that she knew what he said.
Hope crouched over him, her night vision allowing her to see the light hairs on his back and shoulders. The dark ones she had seen on his chest when he had removed his shirt had startled her. Not even the aliens who had held her captive had this much hair.
Hesitantly she placed her fingertips to one side of his wound and felt him shiver. Without warning, she thrust the tip of the sharp blade into his flesh. His muscles clenched and his breath rattled around the stick clamped between his teeth. It took a lot of wiggling, but finally she coaxed the bullet free.
Cord spat what had once been one stick, now two, out and after a couple more sips, poured the last of his drink over his mutilated shoulder. He grabbed up his shirt and used it to dry the sweat that coated his body.
He was about to stand when he felt the cool touch of the girl on his shoulder again. A warmth tingled over his skin, spreading from the wound out. It felt as if a soothing balm coursed through his veins, healing as it went. When that faded Cord was surprised to find his shoulder no longer hurt. He chanced moving his arm and when nothing impeded its movement, he started to question his sanity.
Heavy breathing behind him reminded him he should thank his surgeon. Cord turned and found the girl on hands and knees, panting. He soon realized she was in pain and the first thing that came to mind was that she was going into labor. It reminded him of when his wife had given birth to their son.
When he got closer, he was shocked to find blood blossoming across her right shoulder.
"Crut," he muttered. She'd been shot too! How had he missed it?
Cord grabbed her dress by the back collar and ripped it, revealing the wound. It looked exactly how he imagined his was. Had that bastard gotten two shots off instead of one?
While he berated himself for his carelessness, he watched in shock as the wound knitted itself back together.
"What the. . ."
And then it disappeared. Gone completely. Her strained breathing also returned to normal. She sat back on her haunches, pushing that damn ugly hat off as she did. His eyes widened and he stared in horror. Although it was dark, he could see she wasn't human.
"What the. . ." Cord repeated. He abruptly stood, grabbing one of his guns as he did. On unsteady feet, he aimed at the Camo kneeling before him, and without hesitation pulled the trigger.
Click.
Hope's already large eyes grew wide. Both she and the alien remained frozen in place. He standing and dumbstruck, and she seated on the ground. If he hadn't used up his bullets during the attack, she would’ve been dead. He would have killed her. Even though she had risked her life to heal him.
Cord couldn't believe it. A Camo. The girl wasn't a girl at all, but a filthy Camo. Not only that, he'd let it touch him. And here he was with two empty guns that were only good for bludgeoning. His gaze darted to the knife, which was within the Camo's reach, and he swore. Now how could he get that back without getting himself cut?
He tensed when she noticed where his interest lay. After looking between him and the knife, she picked it up. After a moment's thought, she turned it around so she held the blade and extended her arm.
Cord stared. She was giving him his knife back. He paused in case this turned out to be some kind of Camo trickery, then snatched it from her. It nicked her hand and Cord watched, fascinated, as the cut vanished.
Without taking his eyes off her, he reached his arm over his shoulder and instead of finding pain and a hole, there was nothing but unbroken skin. The scientist had been right. She was special. But that didn't excuse the fact she was a Camo and that he'd been lied to. That wasn't right.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and beard and sighed. "It's dammed freezing," he said and put his gun away. Not turning his back on her, in case she tried something murderous, he grabbed his shirt and shoved his arms into it.
She couldn't understand him, he knew that, but that animal-caught-down-a-gun-barrel look was messing with his mind. Of course he had just pulled a gun on her and as far as he was concerned, she was an animal. What was he going to do with her? Whatever he did, it would have to wait until morning. Maybe then Gerrit could do something about it. If she ran off before then, all the better. He didn’t want to have to deal with anything.
Cord whistled for Keela, who gave up eating a nearby tree and trotted obediently over. He pulled a rope from the bag he kept tied to his mount's neck and approached the Camo.
Hope eyed him warily. She knew what the rope meant, but she needed to gain the alien's trust. That or wait for the one her family had sent to catch up with them. Without prompting, she presented her wrists.
He hadn't expected that. She'd been tied up before, probably by those soldiers that had ambushed them. Knowing that didn't stop him from trussing her up securely. Cord hauled her to her feet and marched her to the far end of the porch. Neither of them were going inside. At least the porch would give them some shelter.
"Get some sleep," he told her.
The blank look she gave in response irked him. He put his han
ds together flat and rested them against his cheek. She repeated the gesture with her bound hands, but seemed to understand his meaning.
Feeling uncharacteristically generous, especially to a Camo, Cord tossed her a blanket and led Keela away. He rested his back against the wall and watched as Keela deserted him, siding with the Camo. What was more shocking was that Keela was letting her curl up against the animal’s hairy hide for warmth.
"Traitor," he muttered.
Cord woke the next morning, wrapped in the same blanket he'd stupidly given to the Camo. It took him a few moments for his brain to remember that fact and when it did he shot to his feet. He hadn't intended to sleep, but he had little choice after the adrenaline had left his body. All he remembered from last night were fragments of nightmares. They usually haunted his sleep, but this time a cool touch had brushed them aside. That part had to be a dream. He glanced across the porch to where he had left the Camo tied up, but she wasn’t there. Keela was also missing.
"Crut," he spat. A few strides across the boards turned up what was left of the rope he'd used to tie her up. It looked as if someone—or Keela—had chewed through it.
Yes, he had wanted her to run off, but he hadn't wanted her to steal his mount. He continued swearing as he jogged off the porch and across the snow-covered ground. The Camo's footprints were light and were hard to see in the fresh dusting of snow, but Keela's footprints were like an elephant's, so he followed them around the cabin.
Before he rounded the corner to what had once been the back garden, he drew his knife and after a deep breath stepped into the past. His memory overlaid the now overgrown garden. His boy running with Keela, dragging a stick behind him, cutting a trail in the newly turned soil. Ellen, among the native flowers she had grown from cuttings, smiling warmly and beckoning him to her.
Reality set in when he noticed the Camo kneeling in the flower garden. She was the one beckoning, not his Ellen. And it wasn't a flower garden anymore. The damn alien was standing in a grave. Why she'd dug up his family, he didn’t know. What he did know was she was going to regret it.
Hope looked up to find the alien storming toward her. She wanted to show him what she had found. The wooden construct they had slept outside of was sacred to him. Why they hadn't slept inside out of the elements, like the other aliens she knew, was beyond her. Once the animal had freed her restraints and she had soothed the alien male's fevered dreams, she decided to discover what kept him from setting foot in this place.
Dawn illuminated the dirt mounds hidden in the overgrown garden. Curious, Hope had laid her hands palm down over them. She was startled to find the remains of two aliens, one female and one young male. Something unnatural caught her attention and after paying her respects to the dead, she had dug a small hole so she could examine it. And that was when Cord found her.
"Get out of there," he yelled and grabbed her elbow. He forcefully dragged her away from the graves of his wife and son and threw her to the ground. He waved his knife at her in anger. Even he didn’t know whether he would use it. He noticed she held something in her clenched fist and wrestled with her to find out what.
"If that's a bone—" he choked, unable to finish his threat. Did he want to see a decomposed part of his family?
Hope uncurled her fingers and held up the object for him to take.
Cord flinched as if she had slapped him across the face. There, nestled on her palm, was a bullet. "Where did you. . ." he started but trailed off when she pointed at the graves. She did not need to understand his language to know what he meant.
He slowly turned and faced the mounds that held the remains of his wife and son.
Hope stood and joined him. Together, they turned to his wife's grave and found a second bullet. He fell back on his heels and stared at what had really killed his family. In all his years on this forsaken planet, he had never heard of a Camo picking up a gun. They had primitive weapons like spears and knives, not guns.
The sound of a gun cocking behind them broke the silence. "I see you found out."
"I trusted you," Cord said. He didn't need to turn to know his friend stood behind him with a gun aimed at his head, no doubt. "Why'd you do it, Gerrit?"
"'Cause you had what I wanted."
"That's no reason to kill my family," Cord replied.
"They were my family," Gerrit told him. "Didn't she tell you, Cord? She was my woman before she was yours. It's why we came here. We were gonna get married but then she saw you and got other ideas."
"I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't. She was ashamed of me," Gerrit spat. "Got it in her head she was better 'n me."
"Why'd you kill them?" Cord asked, his voice flat.
Gerrit laughed. "When you was out hunting I came for her. The boy thought he'd be a hero, so I killed him. I felt bad about that."
Cord seethed, but he fought to keep control. "And Ellen?"
"I took my time with her," Gerrit told him and laughed when Cord shuddered. "Where's the scientist's sister?" he asked.
Cord had been so preoccupied with the reality of his family's deaths that he hadn't noticed her disappear. He figured she must have heard Gerrit coming and slipped away.
"Don't know," he said, feigning disinterest. "Think she ran off in the night."
"Is that Cord speak for: you mistook her for a whore and she ran away screaming?" Gerrit asked.
Cord didn't dignify that with a response. He would never touch a Camo.
"Pity," Gerrit continued, "price on her head. You know she's a Camo?"
"No."
"One of the general's pets. He wants her back. Guess I'll hunt her after I put you in the ground," he said.
"Guess so," Cord said. Not that he intended to go peacefully.
The sound of a mount bearing down on them, its hooves pounding the ground, interrupted them. Both looked up to find Keela thundering toward them with the Camo riding her.
While Gerrit was distracted, Cord wrenched one of his empty guns from its holster and threw it at him. It clipped Gerrit’s gun-hand with such force that his loaded weapon was flung out of reach. Cord didn't give him a chance to retrieve it. He jumped on him and went for Gerrit's throat.
Having been friends for years and serving together in the Corps, they knew each other's moves, strengths, and weaknesses. Fists flew and punches were blocked. Blades flashed as they rolled the other, looking to gain an advantage. Anger gave Cord more strength than a broken alcoholic had any right to have. Only stamina and exhaustion would decide the winner.
Hope couldn't abide the fighting. They also didn’t have time. From his reaction, she knew this alien was the one who had killed the female and child. To think she had thought the hairless one to be less threatening. She gave the combatants a wide berth, circling them on the back of the animal.
Her alien wouldn't last, she realized. When she started thinking of him as hers, she did not know. Nor did she care to devote time to thinking about it. He had already proven to her that he was capable and able to see her safely to the sacred cave. But for that to happen he would need to survive this fight.
Hope requested the animal's help once more. The mount was eager to help. Again they rushed forward, but this time they did not stop and plowed into the fighters. Keela made sure to stomp on the one trying to hurt her companion, while Hope reached a hand to her alien.
Cord looked up, shocked to find that not only was she still there, but that she was preventing him from killing the man who had viciously murdered his family. He knew he didn’t have the energy to finish Gerrit. He spied his gun in the snow nearby and retrieved it before he unwillingly grasped her hand. After he had hauled himself up behind her, he holstered his empty weapon and urged his mount into what passed for a gallop in these parts.
Cord blinked away double-vision and coughed. His breathing was ragged and no doubt he would hurt all over tomorrow, but he had given as good as he'd gotten. He supposed he was lucky to have escaped
with relatively minor injuries. Hopefully Gerrit had a few broken bones after Keela had trampled all over him. If the bastard survived, Cord vowed that he would hunt him down and kill him. Slowly.
Hope knew he was injured. She wrapped her slender fingers around Cord's wrist but he shook her off.
"Don't touch me," he growled. He was still angry with her. She was a Camo. A Camo that had saved his life.
She ignored his action and tried again. This time holding fast so he couldn't dislodge her grip. Warmth spread from his wrist and flooded his body, healing cuts, bruises, and fractures as it went. Each briefly appeared on her before they too disappeared. She slumped against his warm body and let her eyes flutter closed.
With a quick glance Cord confirmed she had passed out. He wrapped an arm around her to keep her from falling off Keela. Why she kept healing his injuries was beyond him, especially considering he would have killed her if he'd had even one bullet left.
He pushed that from his mind and focused on the situation at hand. The scientist had made him promise to deliver this girl to the Ashula Mountains. She had currency, but he'd confiscated that from her. A man he had thought a friend had killed his family and tried to kill him. All he had on him was a knife, two empty guns, and a Camo that could heal his wounds. No matter what he decided to do—go after Gerrit or keep his word—he would need supplies. Bullets, food, clothing, and liquor. God, did he need a drink.
Keela altered course at Cord's urging. The next town was a little out of the way of the mountains and would take them over a day of hard riding to get there. It did, however, have the necessary supplies.
Hope woke and silently yawned. She blinked open her eyes. Snow-covered trees surrounded her and she found herself on the ground in a clearing with Keela curled around her. They were also alone.
Hope shot to her feet, worried that he had abandoned her. She soon spotted the bag the alien kept around Keela's neck and a fire crackled nearby. He was smart enough to not leave a fire unattended. That was her alien, wild like an animal but intelligent enough to survive alone or as part of a pack.
